


Snow

by Bitchard_ZK



Category: Rammstein
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 10:47:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8709421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bitchard_ZK/pseuds/Bitchard_ZK
Summary: Richard didn't pack a coat and now it snowed. Only one person who can fix this, Trabi-man Flake.





	

“Oh God. . . No God!”

Flake awoke with a startle when he heard his band mate yell at his window. God don’t tell me the keyboard fell over- or the guitar. Oh that would be terrible. Richard brought his personal guitar to the practice last night, if anything would have happened to it the man would be devastated. He scurried up to find his glasses and see the damage with his own eyes.

 “What’s going on? What happened?” Images of his broken keyboard or Richard’s guitar kept flashing through his head as he finally managed to decipher where the man was. He was standing in front of the window, where he had heard him yell before. As Flake approached him he turned around, expression grim and mood foul.

“That”. Richard whipped his head to the side, letting it hang a little as he looked up to Flake with a look on his face that reminded him of his daughter whenever she wasn’t allowed to braid his hair or something. Now that he thought about it he she did take a lot after her father.

“What?”

Flake couldn’t understand what the fuss was about. His yell had sounded utterly wrenching. Alarming even. He looked at the other with a confused frown slowly forming on his face. Honestly what was it?

“That!” Richard emphasized with a louder voice, turning his head to cast a glance at the window.

“Scholle, you’re going to have to tell me in words what’s going on because I’m not getting it”. Flake replied with his monotonous voice. He ran his long fingers through his short bleached hair, his expression clearly displaying his, now, dismay.

“Snow”. Richard did the head thing again, obviously frustrated with Flake’s lack of empathy and insight. The answer made the taller man scoff loudly and shuffle back to the bed.

“I thought something bad happened you idiot”. Richard stared at Flake in disbelief as if he couldn’t comprehend how he could say something like this. His eyebrows furrowed together into a frown as he followed Flake.

“I didn’t know it would snow. I didn’t bring my winter clothes. “ He replied, agitatedly even. Flake kept shaking his head at this. How could he forget winter clothes? Although he had to admit, if it wasn’t for his mother’s incessant pushing he would have forgotten it himself.

“Then go buy a coat”. Flake replied. Well there goes sleeping, he wasn’t tired anymore at all. Richard stared at him with a sigh, his gelled hair combed to the side. Flake somehow hated that haircut so much- he didn’t know why.

“Just go out and buy a coat? With what winter clothes?” He scoffed. Flake shrugged for a moment before reconnecting their eyes again.

“Borrow a coat from Till, you have the same built I think.” Honestly, couldn’t he just get a coat? What was so difficult about this situation? Borrow Till’s coat, buy one, and give Till’s back.  Richard remained silent now, pensive as he bit at the lateral nail folds of his thumbs. God Flake hated that when he bit his fingers.

“Can you drive me to town?” If Flake hadn’t been in a slightly worse mood than he usually was he would have teased him with an ‘ahw’ for the way Richard asked him. Much like the way his daughter would ask him if she could stay for band practice.

“I’m not going to town.” Flake refused to go out to the town today. He went yesterday and wasn’t exactly prepared to get out and go back. It was Christmas season soon, so the stores were extra busy, even here.  Richard’s expression said enough to him, the disappointment but most of all, the irritation.

“Come on. Just drive me to town. I’ll walk back”. This Flake doubted. Then again Richard could be stupid enough to do this. He stopped to consider it for a moment before groaning in defeat.

  
“Fine, I’ll take you to town- For a coat only. We’re not stopping for anything else- okay?”

Richard smiled in victory and nodded.

“Nothing else.” He reassured.

“Promise it. I’m not standing beside you in the music store for three hours again.”

“Cool it Flake, I promise.”

“Richard. Can we please, please go now?” Two hours had passed and the blonde male was more than ready to go home. Richard had bought a coat two hours ago, he said he would only buy some guitar strings but then started browsing through old records. He said he knew where to find it- but apparently he didn’t otherwise they’d be out already.

“One more minute”. Came the familiar reply as he walked through the store, flipping the large squares with a cigarette dangling from his lips. Flake was more than done with it , but he couldn´t leave Richard out here and drive home.  Richard gave him a quick look before staring down in disappointment. What was he looking for?

“I’ll come in a bit. Why don’t you go get the car?”

Flake wanted to shoot the man if he could. God he could rip his fae off right now. With loud complaining and shaking of his head he walked back to the car. Usually he wouldn’t make such a big deal out of something, or show his anger or frustration in public- but he wanted Richard to know he wasn’t happy at all. He entered the car and held his hands together, rubbing them as he tried to warm up a little. After ten minutes the guitarist came back, his expression  hard to read and holding a bag with two or three records, Flake couldn’t really see.  Richard entered the car and held the records close to himself- Flake remained silent and started the Trabi.

Their trip back was very uncomfortable for Richard mostly. He was talking about all kinds of things but eventually gave up when he saw the blond didn’t even listen to him. He was obviously pissed off.

It was five in the afternoon, Flake was reading in bed, very frustrated still. He hadn’t heard any music anywhere in the house yet- not Paul, not Schneider, not Till, but most surprisingly, not Richard. No practicing, no records. He imagined that he’d be putting on those new strings or at least trying the new records he bought.   He startled when the door suddenly opened, ripping him from his imaginary world.

“My God Richard”.  He huffed, out of breath from the small leap his heart made.  The cause gave him an apologetic smile. He was holding something under his arm and a huge mug of something hot in his hand.

“What’s that?” Flake didn’t give him a chance to even breathe in between entering and his question.

“It’s- Glühwein. Thought you might, like it”. He placed it on his nightstand and sat down on his bed. The blonde stared at him with a killer glare that could have even sent Paul out of the room without clear directions.

“I erm-  I wanted to say sorry- for making you wait so long.” Richard paused, half-expecting Flake to interrupt- but he remained silent.

“I know how you- wanted that new one. . . From that band I hate so much”. He huffed softly before revealing just what he had bought. It made Flake’s jaw drop- and his guilt rise.  Richard’s smile widened as he looked at Flake taking the vinyl in his hands.

“This is the exact version I was looking for! How did you know?” Flake couldn’t even remember mentioning this in front of Richard- and if he did he didn’t expect anyone would have listened to him.

“Some people actually do listen when you talk you idiot”. He replied. The guitarist was then enveloped by the other, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, the record put to the side for safe-keeping.

“Thank you, really- thank you”. Flake whispered.  Richard now wrapped his arms around the other, too and smiled.

“So we’re good again?” He smirked.

Flake remained quiet for a moment, still holding on to the other tightly.

“Yes, but you’re still paying for gas”. Richard pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek before letting the other go.

“Fine”.


End file.
